


Teaching Demons

by ColbyPuppy, twistmyleg



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood, Gen, I'm so sorry, Suicidal Thoughts, Therion is a vampire, and actions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 03:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18217562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColbyPuppy/pseuds/ColbyPuppy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistmyleg/pseuds/twistmyleg
Summary: An alternate timeline to Bloodbound, exploring what would happen if Therion were to die leaving the demon bound to him to take control.Cyrus steps up as the creature's guardian, eager to help him gain an understanding of humanity and help him cope with the loss of those dear to him.





	Teaching Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags. ALFYN I AM SO SORRY. AND THERION. AND EVERYONE.
> 
> This might turn into a collection of small stories, we'll see if I'm able to come back to it. 
> 
> Also if you haven't read Bloodbound this is going to get, really confusing, most likely.

Therion never should have brought Alfyn along.

He should have gone to the Black Market alone, left the apothecary back in Wellspring. He knew how dangerous his job could get. And thanks to the quirks of his condition, he could survive if things did go wrong.

And go wrong they did. Therion and Alfyn witnessed a group of thieves killing on of the merchants, fleeing deeper into the cavern with their prize: the emerald dragonstone. But they weren't just any thieves, no, they were lackeys of the very same group Darius had sold him out to join.

Darius, who was now their leader. He mocked him, laughed in his face, before leaving. Ordering his lackeys to kill them. It was a difficult fight, Therion and Alfyn were outnumbered. Therion knew how hesitant Alfyn was, taking the lives of others, but it was becoming increasingly clear they weren't going to have much of a choice.

He should have just cut their losses there, they got through the battle but Alfyn was injured. Therion left him to patch himself up, going after Darius and the dragonstone instead.

He shouldn't have brought him along, shouldn't have left him alone. A million little things that he could have done different ran through his head.

Darius had three other men with him. Two thieves in dark cloaks and a third, he overheard the name Gareth, dressed in the same purples Therion had always favored. Darius' second in command, he squared off against Therion while sending the other two thieves to finish off Alfyn.

Therion tried to lash out as the dark cloaked thieves rushed past him, Alfyn could hardly handle one thief fighting solo. He whipped around fast, chucking his dagger at one and swinging his sword at the other. His heart sank when he heard his dagger clatter against stone- he had missed. The other thief danced around his sword and Gareth used his distraction to get a hit in on his back.

Therion began to run after the dark cloaks when a wall of flames blocked his exit, a hand gripped his scarf from behind and yanked.

"Your fight is with me." Gareth's voice was right in his ear, Therion barely had time to react before he could drive his twin daggers into his flesh.

They became locked in a dangerous dance, dodging each other's blows and clashing their blades. Therion needed to end this quick, he needed to hurry back for Alfyn. Eventually Gareth cornered him, Therion's feet sliding to the edge of a drop- a deep cavern pit the upper paths wound around. (Craving screamed, bristled, a cornered animal knew but one solution. Press forward. Attack.)

He surged forward into Gareth's next attack, sword angled to sink into the man's side. Snarling, teeth bared, giving the other man a glimpse at the monster Therion tried, desperately, to hide from the world.

Therion was bleeding, deep stab wounds to his chest and gut. They were nothing. He had survived worse. He stared for but a moment at Gareth. He wasn't dead, yet. In a way the man reminded him of himself, back when Darius had him in the palm of his hand.

But, he didn't have time to think on that now.

Therion dashed back from where he came, praying to Aeber- Aelfric, Dohter, hells any god who might listen to a damned beast like him- that he wouldn't be too late.

 

If only he had left him back in Wellspring. Told him to wait outside the market. Taken him back to town instead of chasing Darius and that damned stone. Not left him alone.

Therion encountered the thieves first. One of them injured, limping, both with bloodied weapons. He gripped his sword tight, was only faintly aware of the beastly growl that issued from his person. The men barely had time to register what came after them.

He was too late.

Therion found Alfyn back in the chamber where they had fought the first set of thieves. The smell of his blood was overwhelming, pooling all around him on the ground. The injuries he had sustained left him near unrecognizable. He was still. The steady beat of his pulse that Therion had found comfort in so many times was gone.

Therion, for the most part, did not allow himself to cry. Darius had beaten it out of him, berating him on how it made him look weak.

But, well, he was weak, wasn't he? The results of his failings and weakness laid right in front of him. This, it was all his fault. His fault, for bringing him here. For leaving him alone.

For getting attached in the first place. Therion had lead Alfyn down this road. To...

Therion collapsed, body shaking with the force of his sobs. His mind ran through the same thoughts again and again. Alfyn was dead, killed horribly. And no matter how he looked at it...

it was all. His. Fault.

As the thoughts spiraled through his mind an old one cropped back up into the mix, one that had haunted him many times over the past several years. It would have been better for everyone if he had died that day, three years ago, when Darius threw him into that canyon. He was a monster, a parasite. Alfyn had been... meeting Alfyn had been the best thing to ever happen to him. And this, this is what trusting Therion had gotten the promising young apothecary.

How long until he brought a similar fate to the others?

A glint of metal caught Therion's eye- the dropped dagger of one of the other thieves. A new idea, dark as the guilt and sorrow weighing him down, crept up in his mind.

He wouldn't be seeing Alfyn again. He was too good to end up where he was going.

Therion picked up the dagger. All the more reason he didn't deserve to stick around.

He poised the dagger with shaking hands over his heart, decision made, bracing himself for the pain. (Craving was confused. What was he doing? The demon didn't understand, he made an effort to stop the motion- but Therion was well accustomed to overriding Craving's whims.)

 

  
It had been an exciting day so far for Cyrus. He and Tressa had accompanied Sir Olberic on an important mission to protect the town. The local Lizardmen had amassed an army and had been attacking in force. Word had it that the man Olberic had been searching for- Erhardt- was already facing the hoards alone.

They found the man and what a treat it was, to witness the Twin Blades of Hornburg fighting side by side! (And what an honor it was, all the times he got to fight at Olberic's side.) When the chieftens of the lizardmen fell the army dissipated, at which point Olberic challenged Erhardt to a duel. A duel which Olberic won- when Erhardt conceded defeat they departed back to town as allies. Cyrus had so many questions he wished to ask, and Erhardt had much to tell of the plot to overthrow Hornburg and the man who orchestrated the events.

Cyrus barely noticed the time going by as they gathered at the tavern to continue talking over food and drink, until Olberic got the table's attention by clearing his throat.

The warrior was frowning, looking out a window. "It is after sundown. Therion and Alfyn should be back to town by now." Both men were no strangers to the alehouse, that it was getting so late without either of them showing up was concerning.

 

With all the focus of the guard being on protecting the town, no arrests had been made that day. While Tressa procured inn rooms and stood watch, in case they returned on their own after all, Cyrus and Olberic ventured out. The note Therion had left with the warrior indicated that there was a cavern to the south of town, which would be where their investigation would begin.

The cave was deserted when they arrived, occupied only by the giant bugs that made the dessert home. They grew more active after sunset, so the mage and warrior had their work cut out for themselves. The chamber at the entrance did not seem out of sorts- if this was the location of the black market then the organizers spared no expense in leaving not a trace behind them. Or, perhaps, what they seek lied further within the cave system.

Cyrus took point, holding aloft a lantern to light the way. Faint beams of moonlight filtered into the cavern from holes above. Entering into an alcove the lantern light fell upon a grisly scene. Anonymous dead bodies laid near where they entered, three of them. Further into the room, hidden in the dark, were two more forms. A familiar plume of white hair tipped them off to the identity of one.

"Therion? By the gods, what happened here?" Cyrus stepped further into the chamber, illuminating Therion and the figure he was crouched by. Alfyn. From where Cyrus stood he could make out where blood had pooled around him, see that he wasn't breathing. His heart sank. "...Therion. I'm-" He drew closer, the young thief wasn't responding to him.

Cyrus placed a hand on Therion's shoulder, and that finally got his attention. But, when he turned something was...off. His eyes were wide open, tears streaked down his face, Therion's expression leaned somewhere between neutrality and confusion. Though his clothing was torn and bloodstained he did not appear to have any injuries. (But- and he couldn't be sure- he thought he could make out new scars.)

He came to a realization. "You're not Therion, are you?" It was like what happened in Whispermill. When Therion temporarily lost his soul to the dark flame, putting the being he shared his body with in full control. "So then, am I speaking to Craving?"

Craving nodded, he sniffled and shook. "Sneaky man. He." He held the knife aloft slightly, moving his free hand to ghost over a (new, it had to be) scar present over his heart. "...but I. Still here?" Craving lowered the dagger again, looking over at Alfyn. "...Grass man. Not moving."

"No, I fear, Alfyn is... dead." Cyrus was met with a blank stare. "He sustained too many injuries, lost too much blood. Humans cannot recover from such injuries as you can. His soul has passed on."

It was a strange thing to see as Craving's face scrunched up, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. (Cyrus had to wonder, did this creature truly not understand? Had he not witnessed other deaths before?) He went quiet, continuing to stare at Alfyn's body.

 

Wrapping Alfyn in a couple blankets Cyrus had in his pack, Olberic carried his body from the cavern. It would not do to leave him to the monsters. The desert was not well suited to burial either, but Alfyn's hometown was located not far from the Sunlands border. Craving remained silent on the trek back to town, trailing slightly behind. Every now and again he would glance back to Olberic, the bundle he carried.

It was a somber evening. After a quick word with the guard and Captain Bale, they acquired a cart and horse for the trip back to the Riverlands. A means to transport their fallen companion more safely. Tressa broke into tears when they returned to her with the news. Olberic tried to comfort her, allowing her to cling to him tight as she sobbed.

Craving remained almost catatonic. Cyrus sighed, leading him by the shoulder towards the stairs. Excusing himself. He had a feeling that right now, seeing this creature in the body of one of their fallen friends, it wasn't doing their grief any favors. He guided Craving into his and Olberic's room. "How are you feeling? You can rest in here, if you so wish. Do you require food? Water? Blood?" He urged Craving towards one of the beds, he sat staring at the ground.

"Feel..." Craving's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "It. Hurts." He looked up, a new wave of tears gathering in his eyes. (One thing that set him apart from Therion, he didn't hide his face. He kept pushing back the bangs Therion was so careful to keep arranged.) "It hurts."

Cyrus gave a slow nod, seating himself next to him on the bed. "It does, it hurts for us as well... sadness. Sorrow. Losing a dear friend, it is devastating. To lose someone you held dear..." he trailed off, resting a hand on Craving's shoulder.

Craving sniffled, leaning over and curling up against Cyrus. Tipping into his lap. Sobbing softly until they, eventually, trailed off. Replaced by soft snores. When Cyrus moved to slide out from under him he whined, gripping his robes and snuggling in more.

The professor sighed, resigning himself to his current fate. The creature- a demon, he reminded himself- occupying Therion's body... he wasn't evil, not innately. That said Cyrus had a feeling he would need guidance, to be looked after. It wouldn't be right to leave him to his own devices. Both for the safety of the public and... he looked so lost. So hurt.

And, well, with all he had learned so far who better to watch over a vampire than himself?


End file.
